


Eight and Nine

by Transformersfan123



Category: 9 (2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transformersfan123/pseuds/Transformersfan123
Summary: The golden eyes were distrustful, staring into the black with half-concealed hostility. But the larger boy was bleeding. The younger gestured at the deep wound, and the older had no choice but to hold out his arm and pray he wasn't about to be tortured by some kind of sick, twisted bastard. Humanized! Stand alone. AU!





	1. Did It Hurt?

The golden eyes were distrustful, staring into the black with half-concealed hostility. But the larger boy was bleeding. The younger gestured at the deep wound, and the older had no choice but to hold out his arm and pray he wasn't about to be tortured by some kind of sick, twisted bastard.

After sterilizing the wound with a swab of alcohol, a needle and thread were pulled from thin air. The blond boy moved very slowly as he stitched up the long gash, and the black-haired boy watched for a few moments before his dark eyes focused on the boy's neck. There was a terrible crisscrossing of scars across the front of his throat. He couldn't help but stare until golden eyes met his again, anger in their depths.

"Sorry. Did it hurt?"

The younger boy blushed hotly, looking back at the wound as he stitched, nodding sharply. The older boy nodded back and his eyes went down to the stitching. There was silence until the thread was snipped. The golden-eyed boy lightly patted the arm then…they both just sat there, the smaller rubbing his throat and looking ready to cry. The larger made up his mind, pulling him onto his lap.

"I won't tell anybody."

Grateful eyes were suddenly overflowing with tears, and they pressed together, the older protectively holding the younger as he cried. A brief eternity later, the dark-haired boy wiped away the tears.

"I'm Zacharias. You can call me Zach."

The boy made some gestures with his hands. Zacharias frowned. "I-I'm sorry. I don't understand."

The earth was drawn into. _'Joshua. Call me Josh.'_

 _"_ Josh, eh? I think we're gonna be good friends."

They both smiled at each other. Getting to know each other was tricky. Zacharias could just talk about everything that tickled his fancy, but Joshua had to go through the tedious process of teaching the older boy sign language. But, to his credit, Zacharias learned _fast_.

"I can do that with things that interest me. But most of the time, I'm just a dumbass," Zachariah confided sadly.

Joshua made a face and signed, "No, you're not."

"Yeah, I am. I got kicked out of high school."

Joshua snorted and kissed his friend's cheek. "You're not stupid."

This time it was Zacharias' turn to tear up. Joshua happily returned the favor of holding him tight. The older boy pulled back, looking much better.

"Thanks, Josh. Thanks a lot."

Joshua nodded and sat in the larger boy's lap, snuggling back. Somehow, though neither was sure how, this friendship was going to work.

"Can you hunt animals?" Zacharias asked after a few moments.

"A little."

"C'mon. Let's hunt. We're almost out of food."

Joshua stood, grabbing his homemade bow and arrows as Zacharias cocked his gun.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

They stalked out, Zacharias softly giving instructions as they moved. Poor Joshua scared away everything. They finally settled into camp, resolving to go hungry. Joshua went out to use the restroom and saw a goose. He fired as fast as he could then proudly presented his kill to his friend, who looked pleased.

"Looks like we ain't goin' hungry tonight! Now, pay attention. I'll teach you how to gut it."

They ate like kings, as it was a large bird, relaxing back afterward to stare at the stars. There was no city light to obscure the stars, as there was no city anymore. Joshua turned on his side to stare at Zacharias. They had been together for a couple weeks now. Could he trust him?

_~Hey Zacharias?~_

"Yeah?"

_~I've never had a friend before. I think you're a good friend.~_

"No, I'm not. I killed somebody. Please don't be scared, it was an accident! I mean, I meant to hurt him, but I accidentally snapped his neck…Are you going to leave me?"

_~Only if you don't leave me.~_

"Why would I leave you?"

Joshua blushed as he crawled over, kneeling beside Zacharias. The older boy sat up, eyes questioning as his friend removed his shirt. There was a multitude of small scars that decorated his torso. When he had taken in those, Joshua gingerly took his hands and led them around him to his back. Black eyes widened, and golden eyes filled with tears as Zacharias tenderly explored the mangled flesh. He finally drew the distraught boy close.

"It's okay. It is. I don't have to look at it if you don't want me to."

_~You can if you want to. Just promise you won't leave me.~_

Zacharias blinked. "How are you talking? It isn't…out loud."

_~It's a mind thing. I can teach you if you'd like.~_

"Yeah. I can look?"

Joshua nodded, shyly turning around. Zacharias traced the scars with his eyes then his hands before pulling his younger companion onto his lap.

"A few scars aren't going to stop me. You're a good friend, Josh."

_~The same is true about you. Now, I'm tired.~_

"Yeah. Me, too."

They pulled out blankets and pressed together for warmth. Winter was coming and the nights were getting cooler. Before they slipped into sleep, they both thought about how glad they were that they had met each other.


	2. Tattoo

"More footprints," Eight said softly, glancing behind him.

 _~Damn trespassers.~_ Nine growled. _~We should just shove a gun up their asses.~_

"Looks like Andrew's gang from the number of different ones. They're getting our kills again, no doubt."

Nine rolled his golden eyes, cocking the shotgun in his hand as the sound of shifting rocks. A boy appeared, eyes wild.

 _"Please! You must help my brother!"_ he signed.

"What's wrong?" Eight asked.

_"We ran away from our leader! We know we shouldn't've, but we did, and now Three is wounded! Please, you must help!"_

Eight looked at Nine, who nodded, then they let the boy lead them to somebody who looked almost exactly like him, only he was gripping a very bloody arm. Eight carried Three to a creek, where they washed the blood away to reveal a deep cut.

"He's definitely got a dislocated shoulder, but Nine needs to stitch up his arm first," Eight explained. "So what are you called?"

_"Four. You?"_

"Eight. This is Nine."

Four got a funny look on his face. _"You're…numbered?"_

"Hey, it's better than telling people your actual names. There are some cults around here that can turn you into a zombie for short bursts if they know your full name," Eight said with a shrug as Nine gingerly began to stitch up the arm, Three watching intently.

_"I suppose that's true. How do you know sign language so well?"_

Nine looked up, and the twins' gazes went immediately to his scarred throat. They stared until Eight cracked his knuckles threateningly then went back to watching where Nine was sewing. When the thread was knotted and snipped and the shoulder back in place, Four stood his brother up. Three could barely stand. Nine pursed his lips.

_"Looks like you're staying with us tonight. He is suffering from blood loss. Come on, Eight. Let's set up camp. Then I'll go get a fat rabbit or two. How does that sound?"_

Three and Four nodded. _"Rabbits are too damn fast for us most of the time. We rarely get much good meat,"_ Three struggled to sign.

 _"Yes. We would be grateful to get a hot meal from you. Seven just can't feed all of us,"_ Four added.

Two and a half hours later, Three and Four were greedily tearing meat off bone as they sated their hunger. Eight and Nine watched them, eating much more neatly. They sat back with a sigh, looking satisfied.

 _"Many thanks,"_ they both signed, Three wincing.

"Rest would be best for you, Three," Eight said, pulling out a blanket. "You two get to sleep."

While Three and Four snuggled together under one blanket, Eight and Nine did the same under the other. They had no problem with that. It meant that they would be warmer, which was good since they didn't have both blankets to themselves. Nine woke up first. After relieving himself, he shot down a deer that was feeding, a nice ten-point buck. He had skinned it and gutted it when _he_ showed up.

"I am looking for a couple of runaways."

Nine peered up at the man, silently assessing him. He finally shrugged, standing with his knife.

"I am called One. They are Three and Four, and are twins. Have you seen them?"

Nine frowned, pointing at the deer. One's eyes traced his throat for a moment then leaned back.

"You want help carrying it?"

Nine nodded. One whistled and a female and three males came out of hiding, looking at him warily.

"Help this young man carry this."

"Is he gonna give us some?" Five asked hungrily.

"I don't know. But he might have some information on Three and Four."

Three, Four, and Eight were up, and the former two huddled together when they saw the others, eyes down as they broadcast shame. One pursed his lips as the others set the carcass down.

"Come here."

They stood, but Three gasped, leaning heavily on his brother. A medium built man ran over.

"What happened?"

"Aw, he fell over the rise yesterday," Eight said dismissively, kneeling over the dead deer. "I've seen a million people do it. It drops off real sudden. Four's lucky he didn't go with him."

"What is the damage?"

"A cut that required ten stitches and a dislocated shoulder, which we reset," Eight said as he began to section the meat with a skilled hand. He was watched with interest.

 _~We should invite them for breakfast.~_ Nine said. _~I want to know more about them. I've seen them in several visions lately.~_

Eight didn't look up. _~If you think it wise.~_

_~I don't know.~_

"Hungry?" Eight asked, looking them over. Everybody nodded eagerly.

"We could use a good meal," One said, sitting down beside him. "Show me how you're doing this."

Eight's eyes darkened in anger. "Is that an order?"

One blinked then shook his head. "You're not one of my little Stitchpunks, so no. I would like for you to show me how to do what you're doing. Please."

Eight calmed and placed One's hand on the knife, guiding him along then invisible lines. One paid close attention, and even helped to cook the meat. Eight and Nine ate neatly, but even One was a little greedy, downing his in under three minutes before taking another one. When breakfast was settling, One cleared his throat, sitting beside the man who had been concerned about Three. The twins flinched, holding each other.

 _~Sorry.~_ They whispered in shame.

"There is a reason I don't let us come over here. Curiosity could have gotten you killed. If you hadn't come across these two gentlemen, you would be dead!"

 _~We're sorry, One…~_ Three said sadly. _~We just wanted to know about the jewels.~_

 _~Yes, and Eight and Nine are very hospitable. We had a big meal of rabbit last night, plus this venison today! We feel very healthy right now.~_ Four said, patting his stomach.

That was met with dead silence. Every head slowly turned to look at the two aforementioned boys. Eight placed a hand on Nine's chest and openly palmed the pistol he'd pulled into his lap.

"Eight and Nine?" One asked slowly, scrutinizing them.

"Yeah, that's us. What's it to ya?" Eight said, eyes going dark again.

"I…Besides ourselves, I have never seen somebody numbered," One said. "It's nothing against you. It's just…curious. Why do you call yourselves that?"

Eight handed the gun to Nine as he pulled off his shirt and showed his upper right arm. There was a black eight tattooed on it.

"I got drunk before the world ended and got a stupid tattoo. After I started calling Nine by his nickname, he called me Eight, and it stuck."

Now their jaws were on the ground, eyes wide. One tugged his shirt off and turned to reveal a large, red one tattooed on his back. One by one, the others revealed their numbers. Nine sat there, feeling worse and worse that he didn't have a tattoo. His wasn't pretty and colorful, Eight wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. That interested One as he slipped his shirt back on.

"Does he not have a tattoo?" Two asked.

"No. He doesn't," Eight said, warning in his voice.

"Then why did you start to call him Nine?" Seven asked.

"Nunya."

"What?"

"You know, as in nunya damn business. Now, if you're staying, you guys gotta be useful. Bitch can cook?"

"Son of a bitch!" Seven barked. She pulled a katana, took one step forward, then shot back when the pistol was leveled to her forehead.

"I brought a gun to a swordfight," Eight taunted. "What's the bitch gonna do?"

They all stared at him in fear. Nine gently put a hand to his friend's and took the gun, shaking his head.

_~They aren't making fun of me…yet. Relax, Eight. There is safety in numbers.~_

Eight snorted, standing and walking away. "Whatever. You'd better watch yourself, bitch."

Nine stared at them sadly, shrugging. One pursed his lips again. "Is he safe?"

The boy brightened, nodding eagerly as he signed. _"Once you get on his good side. He's just being protective of me right now. I…I'm called Nine for good reason, and a lot of people make fun of me for it. If we get close enough, I'll tell you why. Until then, just be nice. Oh…and Seven?"_

"What?" Seven groused.

_"Don't believe Trevor. You're very beautiful. In many ways."_

"Nine! Come here!" Eight called.

Nine left a stunned group behind him. Seven teared up and One held her.

"How did he know about Trevor?" Six asked in bewilderment.

"I do believe we're going to be conducting a lengthy study," Five said with a nod.

"And if they are acceptable?" Two asked.

One shrugged. "Eight has our tattoo story. It's this Nine I'm not sure of. But if they fit? We will welcome them."

They silently watched as Nine practiced with his bow and arrows. There was something off about him, and they all could sense it. It made them all wary. Everybody, that is, but Five.


	3. One of Us

Seven was crying as the men stripped her shirt off, leering at her with lustful eyes. There was a _bang_ and one of them men went down, blood streaming from his shoulder. They all paled, backing away as Eight came forward.

"This your girl, Eight?" a red-headed man asked.

"Mine and Nine's," Eight said, leveling the gun on the leader's forehead "Now, you really don't want to piss us off, now do you?"

"O-of course not!" They were all backing away faster now.

"I suggest you move your asses to a new location. You're trespassing. You have until tomorrow afternoon to be out."

"That's bullshit! We were here first—" He gave a girly scream as Nine walked up, golden eyes promising death. "Yeah! We'll be out by tomorrow!"

"Give me that shirt."

The shirt was thrown at him then they scrambled away as fast as they could. Eight snorted, helping Seven to her feet. She was crying, trying to hide her bra, which was clearly too small for her. Nine helped her into her shirt and Eight embraced her.

"They won't touch you again if they know what's good for them," he vowed.

"Can we go back to camp?" Seven asked in a small voice.

"Yeah. Of course we can," Eight said.

She pressed close to the hulking boy, obviously needing to feel safe. Eight stayed by her, gun out, until they got back home. One took one look at Seven and dropped everything to embrace her as she lost it.

"What happened?" Two demanded, eyes on Nine.

"I told her not to go out by the bluffs," Eight said with a frown. "That's where Andrew and his gang run amok. They have nothin' against raping women. They've done it over twenty times, sometimes to death. If she _ever_ goes out there again, somebody has to be with her."

"How do we know that you didn't try anything?" One asked, narrowing his eyes.

Seven shook her head. "They saved me."

The others immediately relaxed. "Well, we need food," One said.

Eight nodded. "Me and Nine'll go get it. You wrap her up. She's probably going into shock."

Several hours later, Seven was breathing normally. She looked up.

"They had a really weird reaction to Eight and Nine."

"Who?" Six asked, looking up from his notebook.

"Those men. They clearly had more weapons, five times as many people, but they were terrified of Eight and Nine. Especially Nine."

Silence ensued as they all considered this. Eight and Nine carried a deer into the firelight as the world was going dark.

"Want another lesson, One?" Eight asked.

"No. Seven needs me."

"Okay. Help me, Nine."

One watched as they cut up the body. He didn't want to believe the dark things that they had entertained about the two boys, but they didn't make it easy to think they were angels. Nine glanced at him, his eyes guarded. One took a deep breath.

"Thank you. Both of you. For saving Seven from those men. It is one of our greatest fears that she be violated in that way."

"She's a bitch sometimes, but she doesn't deserve to be raped again," Eight said, tossing the meat on the makeshift grill. Seven looked up sharply

One nodded, smoothing his hand down Seven's hair to soothe her. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome." Eight looked at her and smiled. "What cut do you want?"

"The best of course," Seven said, but her eyes were intense. While Eight and the others were around the cooking meat, Seven walked over to Nine, who was half in shadow.

"Is it you that can see the past or Eight?"

Nine shrugged, looking down. In that moment, Seven knew he belonged. She sat down and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed about. I promise. One sees the present, and Six sees the future."

_~Nobody trusts me but Eight. They all want him because he has your tattoo story. I don't and it makes them suspicious.~_

"Why do they call you Nine?"

Sad golden eyes looked at her. _~I don't want to talk about it.~_

"Maybe if you did, it would help them."

Seven watched him shrug then she tilted his head back and ever so tenderly pecked the center of the mass of scars on his throat. He gaped at her, cheeks burning in shame and embarrassment as tears slipped down his cheeks.

"I don't care about scars. I don't care about the past. If you're ours, you're ours, and nothing will change that."

"Food's done!" Eight called happily.

Seven went to get hers. Nobody noticed Nine slipping away, trying to sort through his conflicted feelings. He was missing at bedtime, and that was when Eight noticed he was gone.

"Anybody seen Nine?"

"He was over there earlier. I was talking to him."

"Shit! Nine! Nine, come here!" Eight barked, standing up and looking around.

Nothing. Not a single sound. The large boy clearly began to panic. One calmed him down.

"As soon as daylight breaks, we'll look for him. I tend to wake up at dawn anyway."

They pressed under their blankets and fell asleep. Eight kept waking up to search the darkness before falling back into an uneasy sleep. They all awoke to a broken noise as they sun rose. Eight surged to his feet.

"You hurt him and I'll tear your head off with my bare hands!" he screamed.

"What was that?!" One asked.

"Nine! That was Nine!"

"That sound was Nine?" Six asked with a frown.

 _~Well, you've seen his neck. What do you think he sounds like?~_ Four asked harshly.

Eight glared at them with tears in his eyes then grabbed the shotgun and ran off, calling for Nine. They bolted after him. Eight seemed to be following some sort of signal because he suddenly stopped, pointing his gun at a group of men. Andrew looked pleased, holding a knife to Nine's bare back. His eyes were dim, and he made the noise again as the man dug the blade in.

"Let's try this again, Eight," Andrew mocked. "This time, you're going to be the one leaving. This is choice hunting ground."

"Give me Nine," Eight said tersely.

"I always wondered why he was called Nine. Everybody's seen your tattoo, but his name was a mystery. Not anymore!" He laughed, kicking the boy forward. One's eyes were locked on the vicious scars. They were so much worse than the ones on Nine's throat. But all of them suddenly became defensive of something that they knew was theirs. One slammed his staff on the ground, pushing past Eight as the others fanned out.

"You have exactly thirty seconds to return my Stitchpunk to me before we make you regret being born."

"Stitchpunk? You're that weirdo from the Northside, aren't you?" Andrew asked, making a face. "He's been down here for three years. Clearly not yours."

"Twenty seconds."

"Piss off, freak. I might reopen the wounds. How does that sound, Eight?"

"Fuck you!" Eight spat, but went silent as One jerked his hand.

"Ten seconds."

"You do anything, and I'll kill him."

One stood straight and grabbed his staff with both hands. "Time's up."

There was a ripple and green energy shot out of him. They fired in fear, but the guns locked. They backed up as the numbered stalked forward. Six let out a burst as well, which lifted them all up high in the air before shoving them back.

"Leave! Now!" One roared.

They scrambled away, tripping over each other in their haste to get away. The green energy dissipated and Eight ran over to hold Nine. Two hovered around them, trying to give Nine a physical, because there was quite a bit of blood. Eight damn near punched him in the face. One slammed his staff down again.

"Eight. You will let Two make sure Nine is not bleeding to death."

"No! You'll make fun of him! Everybody does!"

"Does it sound like we're making fun of him?" Seven asked gently, kneeling down beside Eight. His black eyes were half-crazed.

"You're just waiting! He can't take laughter like that! It destroys him, and I won't let it happen!"

"Eight," One said, meeting his eyes. "He is mine, ours, and none of us will make fun of him. We will have questions and comments, but we won't hurt him on purpose. Okay?"

Eight stared into the red depths then slowly released his friend. Two had to put twenty stitches in before he drew back.

"There. He needs a big meal and a lot of sleep."

Eight picked Nine up and they hurried to get him back. The large boy cooked a venison steak for him, which One fed to him piece by piece. Eight watched closely, and he began to cry in earnest once Nine was asleep.

"It's so hard to break him out of this once he gets in it!" Eight moaned in response to Five and Six embracing him.

"What do you mean?"

"He just shuts down when people mock him, or touch his back, or stuff like that!" he sobbed as he started to shake. "He gets so depressed! He doesn't want to eat or even drink water! I just don't know what to do!"

"Well, you don't need to worry about that anymore. That is mainly my problem," One said firmly. "If you can help then help, but don't worry incessantly. That is now my job. Understand?"

Eight blinked then slowly nodded. "Yeah."

"Good, now come here. Sit by me while the others prepare breakfast."

Eight crawled over and cuddled against One, staring at Nine until he was handed a plate. He ate, not tasting anything, then rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Sleep, Eight. We're right here. Nothing will happen to either of you," One assured him, pulling his head into his lap as Two draped a blanket over him.

"Promise?" Eight slurred.

"I promise. Trust me."

Eight stared then relaxed into sleep. There was a burst throughout all of them as Eight finally put his trust in them. They sighed in satisfaction. They thought to never feel that sensation again. And they would get to feel it one more time with Nine.

"Make sure he is comfortable, Two," One said, gesturing at Nine.

"He won't be happy that we've seen his back," Six said, tracing the scars with his eyes.

"I know. But who knows how he'll react," Seven said. "He also sees the past, which he was acutely ashamed of, just like both of you until we cleared that up."

Six nodded. "We can get him over that. Scars…I don't know about that."

"I can do it," Five said with a nod, skimming his fingers over his copper-colored eyepatch and down over the long, pale markings on his left cheek.

"Very well. If you get stuck, talk to us."

Five nodded. He had always wanted to get to know the boy, and now was his chance.


	4. Trust

Nine tightened his hold on the blanket, cheeks hot, stare blank. Five noticed he was awake, going over to sit by him.

"Stew's almost ready."

Blank stare.

"You aren't the only one with scars. Wanna see under my eyepatch?"

Golden eyes got a gleam of interest and there was a small nod.

"Sit up then."

Nine pushed himself up, keeping the blanket up. Five pulled the piece of leather up, and Nine looked fascinated, hands dashing up to explore the mass of scars that was revealed. Five smiled at him when he was satisfied. Nine hesitated and led Five's hands to his throat after he'd put the eyepatch back on. Five was clearly pleased. Very pleased.

"You can be open about your scars with us, Nine," he said, fingering the center of the crisscross of scars. "We're your family."

_~Everybody? Even One? He doesn't like me much.~_

One was there in an instant. "Of course I like you. I just don't trust easily. I now trust you."

Nine stared up at him then reached a hand up. One knelt down and kissed him, pulling him close. His hands slipped under the blanket and traced his back. Nine began to quiver beneath his touch, but he didn't protest. One ended his exploration by pulling the blanket down.

"We love you, Nine. Now, you hungry?"

Nine nodded and was handed a wooden bowl of stew. One taste told him it was squirrel. Squirrel wasn't his favorite, but he was so hungry that he didn't care. Eight came to sit by him, stroking his back once before eating. Nine leaned against him.

"You look tired," Six said once he was done eating. Nine nodded. "That tends to bring out nightmares."

_~Yeah. I didn't have good dreams.~_

"You can rely on me and One for nightmares," Six told him. "Especially because I think your nightmares are like ours."

_~Mine are of the past.~_

"Future," the silver-eyed boy said with a smile.

"And I see things that happen within twenty-four hours of this moment, either way," One said. "And we call that present."

Nine nodded, shivering. _~I don't feel well.~_

Two was there in an instant. "What's wrong?"

_~I'm cold and feel like I'm going to throw up.~_

"You've got a slight fever," Two said. "I demand that you lie down and sleep."

"It is very possible that it is from the visions," One said, seating himself beside Nine and pulling him close.

"He gets very twitchy with his nightmares," Eight warned.

"I can handle it. Six does, too," One said.

"I don't know if we can ask that of you…" the large boy said uncertainly.

"You don't have to," Five said with a smile. "We're family."

Eight blinked, glancing at Nine then smiling. "You mean it? We're family?"

"Of course," Seven replied. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I was never good enough for my dad. My mom died in a car accident. I don't remember her very much. Believe it or not, I was very small before I turned fifteen. I wasn't good for anything. I was small _and_ stupid. I'm still stupid."

One pursed his lips. "No. You are not stupid. You are brilliant."

"No. Nine is brilliant. The twins are brilliant. I'm a dumbass."

He sounded so dejected, so convinced that that was the truth. It made their blood boil, including Nine.

"How dare you!" One barked, standing up with eyes flashing. Eight looked alarmed.

"What?"

"Who has kept us fed with all manners of creatures? Who taught us about guns? Who taught the twins how to shoot? Who seems to know every song ever written and can lift our spirits with a merry tune? You are smart, you are important, and we love you for who you are. Yes, I know you can't list a million facts. Yes, you're not a doctor or an inventor. But that doesn't matter. You are muscle that we need. You are the hunter we need. And we are grateful. Do you understand? Answer me!"

Eight stared as everybody else nodded, smiling at him. He flushed and looked down, hugging himself. One knelt down in front of him, tilting his head back.

"Don't hide from us. Please?"

"I…I can't…"

"Shh, come here."

Eight sobbed, shrinking in on himself. One embraced him, and everybody else crowded in. Nine pushed under his friend's arm, kissing his cheek. Eight clutched at him as the sobbing shook his whole body. He had clearly been in pain for a long time, and this was the release he desperately needed. He took a deep breath several minutes later, sitting up straight. He kept his head down, but One was clearly not having it.

"Look at me."

Eight's dark eyes shyly looked up. "I…Thank you," he whispered.

One kissed him, wiping away the tears. "You are most welcome. Now, Six is going to sit with Nine while he rests, while I go out with you and we get some food."

"But you're not a hunter…"

 _~Hey, if you could teach me, you can teach him.~_ Nine said with a nod then yawned, eyes dimming as ghosts of the past swam through them.

Six grabbed him. "Relax. Let them flow. Just breathe. That's right. You're welcome to share them with me. Okay?"

One gestured for Eight to get his gear. They walked out, Eight strangely silent for a while. He finally stopped.

"One? Thank you for taking us in. Thank you so much. We know we're not exactly the easiest people to live with. But you gave us a chance. Nobody gives us chance. We really appreciate this."

"I would do anything for my little Stitchpunks," One said, raising the gun and aiming at a large goose. "Now, where should I aim?"

Eight adjusted his body and grip. "Ready?"

One fired at a nod and the creature went down. One cried out in joy.

"I did it!"

"Good job!" Eight praised, going over to pick the bird up. "We need one more. Think you can get it?"

"Hell yeah!" One purred.

Eight actually had to shoot the second one two hours later. One was discouraged.

"I'm sorry."

"Eh, Nine did a lot worse than you with guns. Nowadays he just uses his bow. He's really good with it," Eight said reassuringly. "Hunting is as much of an art as Six's drawings. You just have to keep at it. You'll get better."

One smiled as they got back to camp. Eight went through the process of taking the feathers off and gutting it. They cooked it then woke up Six and Nine, who sat up tiredly.

"We're going to have to sleep with him tonight, One," Six said. "He has a lot of repressed visions."

"Nine," Eight said in exasperation.

The boy blushed and hugged himself. _~You shouldn't have to deal with my nightmares.~_

"You know I don't mind. They just get worse if you ignore them!"

"Stop!" One barked. "Nine is tired and needs food then sleep. We will discuss the repression tomorrow. Understand?"

Eight nodded, handing Nine a plate. Nine ate then lay his head down on One's lap. One stroked his hair as he finished his own dinner.

"How bad are they?"

"World War II," Six responded, his eyes dull.

"Shit," One muttered. "Well, we'll deal with it."

"You sure?" Eight asked hesitantly.

"I am. Don't you worry about it. Okay?"

"Yeah…Boss," Eight replied.

Nine looked between them for a moment then made an abrupt decision. Everybody started at the wave of sensation that went through them. One looked down at Nine.

"You…trust us now?"

Nine nodded. _~Eight trusts you, so I do.~_

One smiled. "Thank you. Both of you. Now let's get to sleep. We're going to have a long night."

Six tucked him in, and they let the fire burn low. Nine stared up at the stars as they became brighter. He did trust them. And they trusted him. Besides Eight, nobody had ever done that before. The boy smiled to himself, and One looked at him questioningly. Nine shook his head.

_~Night, One.~_

_~Good night.~_ One replied in his head. _~I'll be here if you wake up with nightmares.~_

Nine nodded. _~I believe you.~_

And honestly? He did.


End file.
